


Crash

by Ratty



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 09:45:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3645702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ratty/pseuds/Ratty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Killian Lavellan is triggered in the tavern one night. Cole sends Cullen to help her hurt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crash

**Author's Note:**

> Killian Lavellan belongs to trashedking on tumblr. Everything else is bioware. I myself suffer from severe PTSD so I based a lot of her reaction on what I go through, I find textures help pull me out of my head, so I used it here as well.

The tavern was loud, bustling with the night-time crowd. Killian often came here, to lean on the upper level and watch the hubbub. It was generally known to leave her be, unless it was to offer a refill of the sweetened mead she was partial to. Tonight, she watched the rest of her group down at one of the main tables, a soft smile appearing as she listened in to one of Varrics’ wild tales. Peace often found her at times like this, she felt average, like the weight of the world wasn’t on her back. That is, until the sound of crashing glass followed by shouting.

~

"The breaking frightens her deeply. Too many years being too little to stop the fury following the sounds. She could never make herself small enough." 

Puzzled, Cullen stopped frowning at one of the Chargers who had broken a tankard, and looked to his left, to the odd…boy?demon?…whatever he was. He wasn’t overly fond of Cole, but he knew Killian cared deeply for him, so he had invited Cole tonight to see if he could coax her down from the upper levels.

"What are you talking about?" Cullen kept his voice down, easily drowned out by Varric.

"She was so little, and he so large. So often she ran to the woods to escape, but he always found her, blamed her." with his eerie eyes locked onto Cullens’, Cole continued. "It runs through her like a breeze, whispers at her when she is alone. But now it’s crashing through her…She can’t breath…. I can’t help her, she won’t let me. But you can." quiet now, he pointed up to where Killian had been standing, a now empty spot. With a nod of thanks to the entity, Cullen stood swiftly, his drink and manners forgotten as his forehead creased with worry. Striding up a level, he looked around. Though he couldn’t let himself think about it, let alone articulate it, he had come to care deeply for her, with her appearance like frost and a heart that burned with fire. Spotting a door left ajar, he went in that direction, thankful for his years of training, that rarely missed details like that.

The battlements were quiet this time of night, only the patrolling guards to be seen. Cullen moved faster now, taking the steps two at a time. He almost tripped over as he came to the next level, and found himself face to face with Killian. 

"Maker’s breath…." She had folded herself into a tiny ball, her hands balled into the sides of her head, fisting her hair. 

"Inquisitor..?" Noticing her violent shaking, he swiftly removed his cape, and draped it around her, swamping her much smaller frame. Crouching in front of her, Cullen reached for her hands, carefully detangling them from the death-grip they had on her hair, and gently brought them down.

"Cole….Cole said I…could help you." It was almost a question, and whisper quiet, not wanting to scare her more. At that, she raised her eyes to him. Normally, they were filled with light, much like the sun reaching through the branches of a forest, but they were dull, haunted. His heart clenched, and he released her hands to shift next to her, and pulled her into his lap. He slowly moved his hand to cup her face, his thumb lighting following the intricate tattoo on one of her cheeks.

"Killian, what’s wrong..?"

"I…I’m sorry Commander… The fight in there…just brought back some bad memories for me..I…I had to leave!" her voice shook, husky from unshed tears, the last of her words louder, more panicked. She buried her hands in the fur surrounding her face, picking at various strands, trying to focus on the texture to quiet her shaking.

"There’s nothing to be sorry for." He lowered his head to kiss between the markings on her forehead, before pulling her closer into him. "Try to breathe with me…" he rested his cheek on the top of her head, his breath ruffling her snowy hair. 

~

Killian had no idea how long he had held her like that, all she could feel was his arms around her. All she could hear was the steady rise and fall of his chest….his chest??? Jerking back, she cracked her head into his chin.

"Fenharel’s teeth!"

"Maker’s breath!"

They swore at the same time, rubbing the respective parts of their heads. Slipping off his lap onto the stone next to him, she risked a glance at him. His amber gaze met hers, worry and laughter mixed in them, before they both laughed softly. Her chest seemed lighter, and though her heart still pounded, it was from embarrassment, not fear. Unfortunately it caused her cheeks to light up, which was always very noticeable with her skin tone. Of course Cullen would notice, he always did. His own cheeks pinkened at the memory of how she felt in his arms, how he….Maker’s breath he’d kissed her! He shot to his feet, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I…um. I hope you’re feeling better now!" Stammering, his heart felt like it was roaring in his chest. "I should-should be going!" He almost tripped over his own feet and he turned to hurry towards his quarters, cursing himself at his awkwardness.

Killian sat there a while longer, puzzling over the Commander’s abrupt departure. It dawned on her that she was still very warm, and noticed that he had left his cape draped around her. Nuzzling her face into the fur, his scent filled her. Suddenly, an idea popped into her head, and a slow smile bloomed as she rose.

Surely the Commander would need his cape returned…


End file.
